


Boys & Girls

by NewAllegroBeat



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sexual Tension, Teen Romance, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3828646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewAllegroBeat/pseuds/NewAllegroBeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a different way of kissing... It's another feeling entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys & Girls

**Author's Note:**

> it's been... what? 6 years? 7? since I wrote something about these two. But meh, I was inspired and this is nothing more than a long-ass drabble. Still hope you enjoy it?

It started when…

Well, no, it never _started._ In fact, it hadn’t even been… well, _something_.

They were brothers, so it was natural for them to be affectionate. They were _boys_ , so it was natural to be carelessly playful. 

They pushed each other and pulled each other’s hair and hugged as if they were teddy bears just to see who could stand it longer. They kissed each other’s cheeks because their skin was soft and puffy and it just felt right, normal, you know?

And it was _cute_ and _endearing_ to see how close they were, how much they trusted each other, how they didn’t fight ( _much_ ), how good brothers they were.

Occasionally their lips moved from their cheeks to their lips and that was also cute because they were just little affectionate pecks and they did that with their mother as well, so there wasn’t any harm or anything strange in it.

It was the way family kissed, not the way _boys and girls_ kissed—so it was alright.

Those were simpler times, for sure.

 

When they grew up, they learned what kissing _really_ was—with other people, of course.

Tom went on to kiss popular girls; that blonde head cheerleader or that low-profile ballerina whose tiny body you could easily embrace and lift. Once even a senior girl who believed she was too good to date anyone but couldn’t resist Tom’s oddly attractive childish charm.  Tom liked girls, _loved_ them; he was good with them too.

Bill on the other hand, went from kissing Goth outsider girls to trying that cute guy from the other class and then the one who really knew stuff about computers and then the school band’s violinist and the basketball team’s captain and then just a bunch of hot sexy people in the industry or industry-related.

It was true that, compared to Tom, Bill could be seen as a real prude. Tom whored around publicly and shamelessly while Bill preferred to keep this sort of stuff to himself. Sometimes Tom got serious, sometimes Bill thought about it—sometimes it worked out, sometimes it didn’t.

That was life. That was their life.

 

However… somewhere in the middle of all that, something happened, something they would never mention but it was still somewhat… there.

First time it happened, Bill was crying about something no one would later remember and Tom was trying to help him cope. He had Bill scooped in his arms, rocking him slightly and unconsciously. He wanted to tell Bill that everything was going to be okay, but the other wouldn’t listen, so Tom had to _show_ him. He squeezed Bill playfully, making him gasp. One more squeeze and the other laughed. By the third squeeze Bill lifted his face and there, so close, Tom kissed him.

He kissed him boys and girls style, because he just couldn’t stand not doing it.

Bill made this little sound from the back of his throat and drew Tom closer by his T-shirt front, and even though it was sloppy and clumsy and unexperienced, it was the best thing in the world at the same time.

After, no one said a thing.

Their lips tingled with the sensation for days.

 

Second time, Bill was anxious about a gig. It was a big one, one that could make or break them, and so he was even more fretful than usual.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous” Tom said, laughing, and when Bill punched him with his microphone in hand he just went for it. He grabbed Bill’s absurdly tight black Tee and brought him close, straight into his mouth. This time it was fun and playful; Tom having been around a bit more and knowing how to lick and bite and nip and just make Bill’s head spin.

“Well…” Bill said once they drew apart, blinking non-stop. “You’re dumb. You’re always dumb.”

“That makes no sense” Tom laughed.

“You make no sense” Bill stuck his tongue out and just like that the tension was gone.

“Hey, can we get a move around here?” Gustav poked his head around the corner both teens were hurled against and Bill nodded energetically.

“Yep. If Tom can move his lazy-ass, we can rock this shit!”

 

Nonetheless, it was the third time that sealed a sort of pact between them, an unspoken agreement of keeping quiet but not stopping.

Bill was feeling nostalgic and alone in the bus, so far from home, and Tom had come to help. Because to Tom, he was nothing if he wasn’t able to always help Bill become better when he felt bad, was nothing if he couldn’t put a smile on Bill’s face when he was sad.

“I’m just… I’m happy, I am. But it’s…” Bill sighed, rubbing his hands against his face. “Home, it’s so far, and I… It’s not that I want to go back, but I—”

“I know. I feel the same sometimes” Tom admitted, and it was true. It was all really new and scary, which didn’t mean they wanted to call it quits. It was just easy to feel overwhelmed on certain occasions.

“Will you sleep with me?”

It was an absurd request; they were not children anymore. They each had beds and lives and space and no matter how nonsensical it was, Tom still nodded and slipped into his brother’s bed.

It was a tight fit in the small bed and they had to stay close, so close that it was just easier to cuddle. Somehow, it felt that it wouldn’t have made a difference had they had a King’s Size, though.

“Tom” Bill whispered and the moment his twin looked at him, he pushed their mouths together.

By then it was easy and rhythmic, no hesitation or doubt; a raise and falling of intonations, sometimes more intense and others softer, always wonderful.  Their lips moved in synch, their hands held perfectly, and it seemed like they could be kissing for _hours,_ it seemed as if they were.

They fell asleep like that: in each other’s arms, tucked tightly together and their mouths millimeters apart. More than once that night, one of them would wake up and start kissing the other, and then the game would start all over again until they nearly passed out from sheer exhaustion.

After that, there was a forth and a fifth and a sixth and a plain loss of track.

 

It still wasn’t a big thing—although who were they kidding, it totally was.

“Tired” Bill complained, hiding his face in the crook of his twin’s neck. They were really buzzed—not out of control but certainly not _in_ control either— after a night out in the city and, per Bill’s request, had decided to come back to the apartment before Georg. And of course Tom had to accompany him because a drunk and over-excited Bill was always a danger to the city of Los Angeles. 

Also, Tom could never have his fill of Bill’s company, of his brother having to rely on him for help. It was oddly comforting. Familiarity itself.

“Tom… I’m so tired” Bill repeated again, and his name sounded different in German, deeper, more meaningful. “Get me to bed.”

And Tom definitely _didn’t_ blush at that, nor did his head fill with completely inappropriate images of his brother’s lean body naked on _his_ bed. Because there was nothing of that into Bills sentence; it was just a practical, factual request.

When they got out of the cab Bill interlaced their fingers, his thumb brushing the skin of Tom’s palm softly yet intently and Tom bit the inside of his cheek to remind himself this was nothing. Just closeness. No meaning.

They stumbled through the door and left their jackets wherever, walking towards whatever bedroom they found—honestly, even for Tom, things were really fuzzy around the edges and all he could think of was the heat coming from where his hands were linked together.

They sat on the edge of the bed together, opened their mouths at the same time to say something (probably stupid anyways), and at the same time hurled themselves forward and then they were kissing, devouring and desperate like never back then but always right now.

Bill’s hands were everywhere: his face, his hair, his neck, his back, and his leg was flung across Tom’s hip, all in an attempt to bring them closer, to sear them together. Bill’s lips were warm and wet and pliant under his mouth and Tom had the feeling he was too familiar with those lips, which was bad. He also had the feeling that if he stopped kissing Bill he was going to die of thirst, which was even worse.

It was just— _fuck,_ Bill knew how to do that thing with his tongue like nobody else, that nobody knew, that always drove Tom out of his _freaking mind._

The way he moaned when Tom’s possessive hands ran over his waist and back and through his blonde hair… _shit,_ it did _things_ to Tom.

How could something feel _so_ right when it had fucking _wrong_ written all over? I

Tom pressed his eyes shut so tight he saw colored dots behind his eyelashes and finally managed to curve his hand around Bill’s shoulder to push him away, prying his lips away with a heavy heart and the word _mustn’t_ stuck in his brain.

“Goodnight Bill” he whispered, voice raspy and hungry and conflicted.

A shade of disappointment crossed Bill’s features but he finally nodded and sat back on the bed.

They were silent for the longest while ever, Bill just staring at the ceiling with his hands resting on his stomach and Tom constantly running his over his face and hair. Finally, Bill spoke.

“Hey, let’s sleep, okay?”

Tom looked at him and for a split of a second he thought of saying _fuck it_ and go for _it,_   it being that unspoken yet ever preset step that would most certainly cause a drastic and definite shift in in their relationship.

After the moment passed, he just took off his shoes and turned the lights off, going to rest next to his brother on the bed.

It took its time, to get them to breathe normal and stop feeling awkward, but they eventually slipped into a peaceful alcohol-induced sleep.

 

Fine, they were fine.

 

It was just a game, just that.

 

It was just that sometimes… the game went a little too far.


End file.
